


Hearts of Stone

by theladyscribe



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2008 Stanley Cup Final, Angst, Cuddling, M/M, Pittsburgh Penguins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:35:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You come over tonight?" Geno asks.</p><p>Sid should say no. He should go back to Mario's to lick his wounds alone. He's not going to be good company tonight, and he's not really in the mood to hook up, which is probably what Geno wants (he's more persistent after losses, and this is the mother of all losses).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearts of Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to hazel for the beta. Title is from the song by Bruce Springsteen.

Sid stares at his hands and wonders if he'll have to answer questions from the media tonight or if it can wait until morning. He's numb, nauseous. There's a pit in his stomach that feels like a black hole.

Despite the distance, they can still hear the roar of the Red Wings fans as their team celebrates. Nobody in the locker room can bear to look at each other. The room is silent except for the sounds of tape being stripped and the clatter of gear falling to the floor. And the echo of the celebration outside.

Sid thinks he should give a speech about playing hard and not giving up, but just the thought makes him dizzy. He needs to find out if he's supposed to talk to anyone or if he can just go home and cry.

He's about to get up and ask when Geno plops down beside him. "You come over tonight?" Geno asks.

Sid should say no. He should go back to Mario's to lick his wounds alone. He's not going to be good company tonight, and he's not really in the mood to hook up, which is probably what Geno wants (he's more persistent after losses, and this is the mother of all losses).

"I don't," Sid starts.

"Please?" Geno looks the way Sid feels, his hang-dog expression more hang-dog than usual.

Sid knows what will happen if he says yes. They'll go back to Geno's, they'll eat dinner and have slow, gentle sex — the kind that often leaves Sid's heart aching more than the rest of him — and tomorrow they'll wake up and pretend like it didn't happen.

He doesn't think he can do that tonight.

"Sid?" Jen interrupts. "You okay with giving some time to the local papers? One question each? We'll have the official press conference tomorrow, but they'd like quotes for the morning edition."

Sid nods tiredly. "Okay."

Geno smacks Sid's knee and says, "I'm wait for you." He nods at Jen and takes off like the media avoidant he is.

Sid answers his two questions and hits the showers, taking long enough that the locker room is empty by the time he's done.

When he finally walks out of the stadium, even the player parking lot has cleared out. The only two left are his own car and the one beside it. Geno. Sid sighs. He'd hoped Geno would give up, go home.

"I'm really not in the mood for sex," Sid says under his breath, though there's no one around to overhear.

"I'm not want sex," Geno says. "Just want not — be alone." He doesn't look Sid in the eye, which means he's telling the truth.

Sid fiddles with his keys for a moment. He doesn't really want to be alone either, and while he technically wouldn't be alone at Mario's, he's not sure he can deal with that much company right now. Maybe in a couple hours, after everyone is asleep.

"Okay. I'll come over. But only for a little while. And I need to call Mario first."

Mario is overly kind when Sid says he's going to Geno's for a while. He tells Sid not to stay up too late, since they'll have a press conference in the morning, and to take care of himself, and Sid thinks hysterically that that's half his problem. If he were taking care of himself, he'd avoid Geno like the plague. These occasional hook-ups may yet be the death of him.

It doesn't stop him from following Geno home, though.

Geno beats him there, so the gate's already open and the lights are on. Sid parks in what has become his spot over the last couple of years. He takes a fortifying breath before he gets out of the car to go inside. He finds Geno in the kitchen, pulling ingredients for omelets out of the fridge.

"I'm not really hungry," he says, but Geno rolls his eyes and hands him a block of cheese.

"Grate," he says, nodding toward the drawer where the grater is.

They make the omelets on autopilot, only speaking when one or the other has a question about ingredients. While the first one is cooking, Geno starts up tea, handing Sid the spatula with a look that says he isn't sure he trusts Sid with it. Sid isn't sure he trusts himself with it either, but he manages to keep the omelets from being too badly burned.

They don't talk while they eat, and Sid wonders why it was so necessary for him to come over. When they're done, Geno cleans up and then says, "Bed?"

Sid frowns. "I told you I'm not in the mood for this."

"Not sex. Just sleep?"

Sid should say no. He should head back to Mario's. But Geno still looks haggard, and not being alone sounds really good right now. "Okay."

Geno smiles, though it's tempered with exhaustion, and herds Sid upstairs to his bedroom. Sid hesitates as Geno strips down to just his underwear in the half-dark of the room. In other circumstances, Sid would tease him about his skinny legs and shabby briefs, but not tonight.

Geno glances back at Sid, a question in his eyes.

"I should text Mario," Sid says. "I don't want him to worry."

Geno doesn't point out that it wouldn't be the first time Sid stayed over after planning to leave, maybe realizing that tonight is different, that Sid needs this bit of space, of control, however minor.

Sid sends his text and doesn't wait for a response before putting his phone on silent.

Geno is already in bed, apparently serious in his assertion that he doesn't want sex. He watches Sid as he unbuttons his shirt, but there's no heat in his gaze. It's a little unnerving, and again, Sid thinks about turning around and leaving, too emotionally exhausted to deal with anything remotely heavy.

"Sid?" Geno says. "Come sleep?"

Sid answers by shrugging out of his shirt and undoing his pants. He slips under the covers in his t-shirt and boxer-briefs, turning on his side away from Geno, holding himself a little distant even as Geno shifts closer.

"We're lose tonight," Geno says to his back.

Sid bites back on the sarcastic comment that comes to mind, breathing deeply and feeling the black hole that threatens to reopen in his gut.

"I don't —" Geno curses softly. "I'm never lose like that before, you know? I'm never want lose like that again."

Sid takes another deep breath. When Geno puts a hand on his shoulder, he flinches.

Geno pulls back and whispers, "Sorry, Sid." Sid can feel him move back toward his own side of the bed.

Sid considers rolling back into Geno's warmth, but right now, he just wants to let the hollow in his chest overtake him. It's better than reliving that last period, his missed shots, the looks on everyone's faces as the red confetti began to fall.

He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for sleep to come.

Sid must doze fitfully, because he startles when Geno moves close again. Sid turns toward him this time, and Geno slips an arm around him, pulling him close.

"We're win next time," Geno whispers against Sid's collarbone.

Sid wishes he could be that certain, could have that kind of conviction, but for now, this is enough. It has to be enough.

[end]


End file.
